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‘No, I hadn’t forgotten. I was merely being a gentleman and not mentioning it.’
With a bemused look, Kit sighed. ‘At any rate, don’t you think I have anything better to do than spend my time dwelling on what you look like naked?’
‘No doubt you do. But don’t bruise my already fragile ego by denying me the very healthy male fantasy of you lusting after my body in your spare time.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake...you’re impossible!’
‘I’ve been called worse things in my time.’
‘I think we should just call a halt to this inane conversation right now and concentrate on having our breakfast, don’t you?’
Once again Hal lifted a sardonic brow. ‘You just told me that you don’t eat breakfast.’
With a frustrated groan, Kit pushed back the tendril of auburn hair that had drifted onto her forehead and exasperatedly rolled her eyes. ‘Well, I might just be driven to it to help me keep up my strength if you persist in trying to wind me up all day!’
It was perverse, but Hal privately admitted to a strange delight in knowing he could get to her—even if her reaction wasn’t the usual smitten one he’d grown used to receiving from women.
Taking a couple of satisfying sips of his coffee, he gave her a disarming grin. ‘I’ll do my best not to aggravate you, sweetheart, really I will. But you surely can’t deny a poor invalid these only too brief opportunities to brighten up his day? That is not unless you have a heart of stone?’
‘So it’s a “poor invalid” you are now, is it?’
‘What else could I be when I’m stuck here in this wheelchair?’ Suddenly, out of the blue, his mood turning on a sixpence, Hal’s frustration at his immobility got the better of him. ‘Trust me, angel. If I wasn’t so incapacitated by this blasted broken leg I’d be chasing you round the room until I caught you and stole a long, satisfying kiss!’ The very idea at being able to carry out such a threat instantly restored his good humour. ‘Although I know one could never possibly be enough.’
‘Don’t you remember you already stole one yesterday?’
‘You told me you’d forgotten about that. Maybe it left more of an impression than you admitted? Perhaps I should take a chance and steal another one to remind you how good it was?’
‘I don’t agree. Although I won’t deny you your harmless little fantasy if it helps to keep your spirits up. Anything that aids your recovery is fine by me, because once you’re up and about again, and you can get back to your busy life and the no doubt infinite number of women who find you so irresistible, you’ll be a lot happier and my job here will be done.’
Just before she turned away to slot some bread into the toaster Hal saw her lips wrestle with the most maddening grin and he couldn’t help scowling because—unbelievably—she had bettered him by finally getting the last word...
* * *
Having pronounced him better than she’d hoped, the cheerful nurse from the private hospital Hal attended departed, promising to see him again in a week’s time and instructing him to call if he needed to see her sooner. When she’d gone he told Kit that he intended to work in his study until lunchtime and that she could please herself what she did until then.
Cutting him down to size with the comments she’d made in the kitchen before the nurse arrived had made her regret being so outspoken, because since then he’d fallen worryingly silent and there had been no more provocative banter between them. Even though her blood had throbbed like honey heated over a slow-burning flame when Hal had confessed he wished he could chase her round the room and steal another kiss...
Kit knew she shouldn’t encourage any more flirtatious comments because it would only make it harder not to see him again when her job came to an end. Besides, she knew he couldn’t possibly be serious about wanting to kiss her for a second time. She was certain that the brief but delicious kiss he’d delivered yesterday had only come about because the circumstances had been so helplessly intimate. After all, you couldn’t get much more intimate than helping a man into the bath and washing his hair, Kit reflected, her blood heating at the memory.
Besides, according to the press, he’d dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. There was no way on God’s good green earth that Kit could ever hope to match up to any of them...but then nor would she want to. If she ever fell in love with someone it would have to be with a man who wasn’t so easily seduced by the temptations of the world, or one who felt he had to keep up some kind of glossy ‘action man’ image to be accepted by it.
No...none of that would be necessary, because the man she settled on would soon learn that he was with a woman who truly loved him for himself...not for what he could achieve or provide materially. Biting her lip, because she’d been drawn into mulling over a scenario that she rarely allowed herself to dwell on, Kit started in surprise when five minutes later Hal called her into his study.
After knocking and entering the room, Kit stared wide-eyed at the proudly displayed evidence of his achievement—awards he’d received from the music industry and stunning photographs of the various sporting challenges he’d participated in round the world. The only evidence of anything more personal was a lovely silver-framed portrait of his sister Sam.
Unable to help herself, Kit twitched her lips in amusement when her glance collided with the calendar above Hal’s desk. The photograph depicting the current month was of a generously curved, famous blonde model wearing a white bikini... Scratch that... Nearly wearing a white bikini. She was still smiling when her gaze returned to Hal and saw that his chameleon-gold eyes were studying her intently, as if he was wondering what she made of all the awards and pictures on show...never mind the audacious calendar.
‘You must be very proud of all your achievements,’ she commented brightly. She didn’t anticipate the downturned mouth and impatient shrug he gave her in response.
‘There are other things I’d like to achieve more,’ he answered intriguingly.
‘Like what, exactly?’
The handsome features were instantly guarded. ‘It’s not something I feel inclined to discuss right now, if you don’t mind.’
‘I don’t mind at all.’
Kit genuinely meant that, but she couldn’t help but be curious as to what exactly Hal Treverne wanted to achieve that was even more commendable than what he’d attained already. Was there any goal or pursuit in the privileged world he inhabited that he hadn’t accomplished or excelled at? It didn’t seem likely.
Lightly folding her arms over her flannel shirt, she asked, ‘What did you call me in for?’
Leaning back in his leather chair, he extracted a business card from his leather wallet and handed it to her.
‘I’d like you to book a table for two at this restaurant for lunch today. Tell them that I’d like one of the more private tables, with some space around it so that I can stretch out my leg.’
Briefly examining the card and recognising the name of an elite Michelin-starred restaurant that the rich and famous were known to frequent, Kit quickly scanned her memory banks for easily accessible nearby parking in the area.
As if reading her mind, Hal said, ‘You don’t have to worry about parking. The concierge will have a member of staff do that for us when we arrive.’
‘Okay. What time should I book the table for?’
‘Half past one will be fine.’
‘And are you meeting your guest at the restaurant?’ Her heart thudded heavily at the thought that he was probably meeting some nubile blonde who was his latest lady-friend. Kit didn’t quite buy his assertion that he hadn’t dated in over six months. A man like Hal Treverne wouldn’t be without a woman for very long—not if his colourful reputation was anything to go by.
‘What guest?’ He was looking distinctly perplexed. ‘It’s you I’m going to lunch with, Kit. Isn’t that obvious?’
Now her heart thudded even harder. ‘But you’re booking a table at one of the most fashionable eateries in town. Do I have to dress up? If I do then I can’t go. My wardrobe doesn’t stretch to anything remotely suitable for a restaurant like that, and I don’t want to embarrass you.’
‘Embarrass me? You obviously don’t get out a lot do you, sweetheart?’ Tunnelling his fingers through his thick mane of dark curls, Hal shook his head bemusedly. ‘You don’t need fashionable clothing, or indeed any adornment other than that mane of glorious fiery hair and those beautiful blue eyes of yours, to make you fit to appear in any fancy restaurant in the world. Besides, I’ve frequented this particular establishment more times than I care to mention, and trust me...’ the sculpted lips shaped themselves into an irrepressible grin ‘...the owner—who happens to be a personal friend of mine—would cut off his right arm rather than risk losing my custom.’
Silently reeling from the totally unexpected effusive compliment she’d just received, and the fact that yet again he had called her sweetheart, Kit struggled for a moment to reply.
‘All right, then. I’ll go ahead and make the reservation.’
‘Good. Now, as much as I regret bringing our little tête-à-tête’ to an end, I suppose I’d better get on with some work. By the way, Mrs Baker, my cleaning lady, is due in soon. Let her in and introduce yourself, will you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good.’
As he turned his attention back to the paperwork strewn untidily across his desk Kit quietly let herself out, wondering what she could do to help make her more impervious to Hal Treverne’s irresistible charm and charisma if she were to continue to stay working for him.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_9e53e2d2-d392-5fc1-9246-7df03ab10ac9)
IN ADMIRATION, HAL had seen Kit turn what might have been a somewhat awkward entrance into the restaurant into a flawlessly smooth operation that he could never have managed on his own. Even though he was well-known, and it had no doubt not gone unnoticed by the other notable diners that he’d been injured in a foolish skiing accident, Hal hated the idea of inviting unnecessary attention when all he wanted to do was enjoy some of the finest cuisine in the country in peace with his chosen companion.
But even when he’d happened to catch someone’s inquisitive gaze Kit’s gracious smile and softly spoken reassuring words at his side had helped him to brush it off and they had proceeded to their table unhindered.
Pleased that his confidence in walking with the aids was definitely improving, Hal relaxed. His spirits rose even more when he saw that it was his beautiful Titian-haired companion who was drawing most of the attentive glances that came their way—he certainly wasn’t above feeling some typically masculine pride at having an attractive companion.
The interest in Kit had started with the charming French maître d’, who had all but gone into Gallic ecstasy at the sight of her rippling burnished hair. She wore it loose at Hal’s request, because he’d wanted to see it unbound again. And it hadn’t been hard to detect the curious minds of the other diners avidly whirring at their entrance into the restaurant. They must be wondering about their relationship, putting two and two together and undoubtedly making five...
But whatever people were imagining about his association with Kit Hal couldn’t deny that his idea of making their relationship more intimate had been growing stronger the more time they spent together, and he longed to make it a reality.
‘Can I tempt you with some wine?’ he asked as Kit’s extraordinary blue eyes gravely studied her copy of the leather-bound menu.
‘Wine?’ She blinked up at him in astonishment. ‘I’m driving. Did you forget?’
Unbelievably, he had. He was so lost in his contemplation of her captivating features that it seemed he had forgotten how to think straight. Embarrassed heat pulsed through his bloodstream and he knew it must have invaded his face. The atypical reaction made him feel like an inexperienced schoolboy instead of a thirty-two-year-old man who had always been supremely confident around women... It was hardly a feeling he welcomed.
‘I confess I did. It’s a shame. They have some incredible wine here.’ Lifting his own copy of the menu, he attempted to peruse it.
Taking him by surprise, Kit leaned across and curled her elegantly slim hand round his.
‘It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have a glass if you want one. Although I’d advise you not to overdo it since you’re taking medication at the moment.’
Hal hardly registered her words because the touch of her skin against his was like receiving an electric shock that left him reeling. Now he didn’t just like her touch, he realised...he had begun avidly to crave it. But as his heartbeat slowly started to return to its normal rhythm he couldn’t deny that she’d pricked his pride by reminding him of his current despised condition.
‘I might have known my personal guardian angel would remind me of that fact. How fortunate that you always seem to be here when I need you, Kit.’
She instantly withdrew her hand. He might have slapped her face.
‘That’s what you’re paying me for, isn’t it...? To be a help to you while you recuperate?’ She made a show of being interested in the menu again but her gaze returned almost immediately to examine him. ‘If you don’t like the way I’m doing my job perhaps you’d be happier with someone else?’
‘Don’t do this. Not here.’ Lowering his voice, Hal glanced briefly across the packed restaurant. Then, leaning towards her with a frown, he said, ‘It might be interpreted that we’re having a personal relationship and it’s not going very well. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression and for a story to find its way into the tabloids so they can belittle me like they usually do.’
Her alabaster complexion flushed cerise and he realised he could have chosen his words a lot more carefully.
‘What do you mean by the wrong impression? I’m nobody,’ Kit demanded softly. ‘It’s not as if I’m your wife or girlfriend. Who cares what anyone else thinks?’
‘I do.’ He swallowed hard. It was impossible to tear his gaze away because he was mortified to think that he’d insulted her...hurt her, even. If he had, then he had a profound desire to make things right again. ‘And I didn’t mean to imply that it bothers me if people think our relationship is personal. Did you think it would? You sell yourself short if you do. You’re a very beautiful woman, Kit, and it wouldn’t be beyond anyone’s understanding if I was attracted to you.’
‘Now it’s my turn to ask you not to do this. I’d prefer it if we both remembered why I’m here and didn’t lose sight of that in some pointless, ridiculous fantasy.’
Self-consciously she’d lowered her voice, but the pink flush on her cheeks rendered her so irresistibly pretty that Hal didn’t think twice about reaching out his hand to gently stroke his fingertips across her cheek.
Kit bit down on her lip as though pained. ‘Don’t. The waiter’s coming towards us and we haven’t even discussed what we’re going to eat yet.’
‘I heartily recommend the herb-crusted lamb. Trust me—what they do with it is close to orgasmic.’ Grinning, Hal kissed his fingers with a deliberately theatrical flourish.
Kit had just about recovered her composure in time, he saw, as the waiter appeared to ask smilingly if they’d made their selection. Giving Hal the barest warning glance, she unhesitatingly went for the lamb. Despite the warning, he couldn’t resist giving her a teasing wink of acknowledgment that she’d taken him at his word and succumbed to his enthusiastic recommendation without a murmur. He took it as a good sign that she trusted him.
‘Well, well, well! I see the walking wounded has returned to the land of the living, looking as disgustingly handsome and fit as ever...despite the broken leg!’
Hal was seriously starting to relax and enjoy Kit’s company, as well as his indisputably delicious meal, when a familiar male voice sent a disagreeable chill down his back. Looking up, he came face to face with the insincere smile of his ex-business partner Simon Rigden.
Simon was wearing his trademark designer suit, and his mid-brown hair was slicked back and as perfectly styled as always. But his over-familiar air and polished appearance weren’t about to make Hal feel remotely friendly or predisposed to let bygones be bygones. The man was a wily snake and he’d be a fool to forget that for a second time. The pity was that he hadn’t recognised it as being the case when they’d first met and he had stupidly made him his partner...
Ignoring the slightly pudgy hand held out before him in greeting, he took his time in touching his linen napkin to his lips, then emitted a weary sigh. ‘If your aim was to ruin my day by appearing like this then you’re wasting your time, Simon. That skiing accident on the Aspen slopes confirmed the realisation I already had about you...of what a conniving, merciless little weasel you are.’
Glancing across the restaurant, Hal saw a couple of similarly dressed businessmen he didn’t know from Adam raise their glasses to him in a presumptuous gesture of acknowledgement. Clearly his one-time friend and business partner had company—and perhaps not so savoury company.
‘Why don’t you just slink back to what I’m sure are your equally disagreeable companions and endeavour to ruin their day instead? I have every confidence you’ll more than succeed.’
Beneath the tan that he liked to keep topped up with frequent trips to the Caribbean and other fashionable hot spots round the world, Simon visibly flushed. But then exerting a little sweat and doing an honest day’s work had never been one of his biggest priorities, Hal recalled. It was one of the reasons he had paid him off—in hindsight far too generously—and brought their partnership to an end. In another era Simon Rigden would have been known as being a reprehensible louche, he was certain.
‘You’re obviously feeling bitter because I won our little bet that I was a better skier than you and that I could beat you on what’s known to be one of the most challenging slopes in the world,’ Simon accused him mockingly. ‘You feel humiliated that you crashed into that snowbank in front of several of your cronies. Everyone knows how much you hate to lose, but you weren’t exactly “Lucky Henry” that day—were you, Hal?’
‘You’d better leave before I signal the maître d’ and have you thrown out for being a nuisance.’
‘And risk having your reckless reputation highlighted once again in the tabloids? Although I’ll concede this restaurant does make an admirable effort to keep out the riff-raff, one or two hacks always manage to sneak under the radar. See any faces you don’t recognise?’
Hal bristled. ‘Why don’t you just get out of my face and leave me and my companion to enjoy our lunch in peace?’
The other man’s gaze swung interestedly across the table to Kit.
‘And who might you be, sweetheart? I must say I’m surprised. I thought our friend’s preference was for voluptuous blondes—not dainty little redheads who look like they come straight out of the Renaissance. But I suppose you must possess one or two sexy little tricks to keep him keen. You’ll certainly need to invent a few more of those if you’re going to keep him happy whilst he’s immobile. I hear it was a particularly bad break, and my guess is his recuperation is going to be a long one. But if his interest starts to wane at any time, sweetheart, you should give me a call.’
His pudgy hand dived into his wallet to extract a business card. He threw it down in front of Kit in a gesture clearly meant to insult. ‘I’ve had my surfeit of blondes lately, and I must admit, I could use a change.’
The look on Hal’s face would have put the fear of God into a man with any modicum of sensitivity.
‘Carry on in that vein, Rigden,’ he warned, ‘and I swear you’ll live to regret it. Now, get out of my sight! You’re not fit to even look at her. In fact you’d better get out of here quick—before I call the police.’
‘It’s all right, Henry. I can deal with this.’ Calmly taking a sip of her orange juice, with both men staring at her in mute fascination, Kit followed up this remark with another confident assertion. ‘I’d rather take my chances in a pool of piranhas than waste even a second of my time on an unsavoury character like you, Mr...er...?’ Coolly she picked up the business card that had been so insultingly flung down in front of her and read the name on it out loud. ‘Mr Simon Rigden.’ Pinning him with a direct and frosty glare, she finished, ‘You can be sure I’ll remember that, if I’m ever interviewed as a witness when Mr Treverne takes you to court on a charge of harassment. One thing’s for sure—it won’t enhance your reputation.’
‘Touché,’ Hal murmured beneath his breath.
‘You little—’ Flushing, the businessman abruptly turned on his heel and promptly left the restaurant, not even troubling to return to his companions and explain the reason he was leaving.
Given the looks of resignation on their faces, Hal deduced they weren’t at all surprised by his sudden exit. Some people just had a knack for self-sabotage...
Immediately returning his gaze to the much more pleasing sight of his Titian-haired companion, he asked, ‘What made you do that?’
‘You mean cut him down to size and stand up for myself?’
‘Yes.’
Kit’s blue eyes flashed. ‘Let’s just say I’ve had plenty of experience in dealing with men like him. My mother brought men like Simon Rigden home with monotonous and painful regularity in her search for the man of her dreams. Needless to say it was a fruitless and soul-destroying exercise. Unfailingly, her dreams turned into a nightmare. She wasn’t the best judge of men. And when each of those men took what they wanted and then abandoned her—which they did, without exception—I was the one left to pick up the pieces and try and convince her that what didn’t kill her would make her stronger. Except that it never did...’ Her gaze looked far away for a moment. ‘Make her stronger, I mean...’
‘That must have left some scars on you,’ Hal remarked, expressing the compassion he was feeling that she’d endured such a horrendous experience. It explained a lot about why she was so guarded and self-contained, so determined to protect herself from similar predators.
Grimacing, Kit gave a brief shake of her head. Her blue eyes were like the most intense moonlit stars they were so bright.
‘Scars heal...but unfortunately memories don’t. But you were right...that Rigden chap really is a weasel. What decent, right-minded man would mock a friend because he had lost a bet and suffered serious injury? It’s clear he doesn’t have any principles. It’s none of my business, and I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I’d steer clear of him in the future, if I were you.’
‘Trust me. I will. I only wish I’d known the low-life was going to be dining here today—I would have suggested we went somewhere else. He keeps trying to rile me because he’s still mad that I broke off our partnership.’
